


Close to the Sun in Lonely Lands

by SumDumMuffin



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, F/F, Mommy Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-18
Updated: 2017-07-24
Packaged: 2018-08-15 14:50:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 17,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8060710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SumDumMuffin/pseuds/SumDumMuffin
Summary: Everybody at Overwatch loved Angela, right?So why does Captain Amari's daughter avoid her whenever she shows up on base?





	1. Fareeha

**Author's Note:**

> Overwatch and all associated characters are owned by some sort of Blizzard. 
> 
> So, it's like, you find a niche and just burrow into it like a barnacle, never leaving your comfort zone. I guarantee no expertise in Overwatch Canon, the Swedish or Arabic language, military organizations, medicine, puberty, romance, exclamations in different languages, or even the English language. If you have any corrections, I'll take them into consideration. 
> 
> This fic takes place before the first fall of Overwatch. I'm trying not to be outrageously non-canonical, but I'm sure I've missed some details somewhere. This is a fic about young Fareeha having a crush on Dr. Zeigler.
> 
> Fareeha is 12 and Angela is 17, but (spoilers) , neither of them will be doing anything anything that requires them to be over 18, so I didn't include the 'underage' tag. However, if the ages matter to you anyway, consider this your heads up. 
> 
> I interpret 'age difference' to be either outside the (age)/2+7 range, or more than 18 years apart. So, in normal Overwatch cannon, they wouldn't be dating out of the range, but this fic is about a young girl having a crush on a teenager, so hence the tag.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela gets introduced to Fareeha.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At some point, I was told that 'Frito' and 'Farby' are acceptable nicknames for 'Fareeha', so I'm going with that, here.
> 
> I also don't know how Swedish accents sound, so Torbjorn might come off as a little Scottish. My apologies.
> 
> EDIT: After some posting snafus, the chapter is mostly complete. I'll keep an ongoing typo hunt, but this should be readable, now. Sorry for the inconvenience.

 

Angela Ziegler was one of the youngest surgeons in history, and certainly the youngest one on the Overwatch base. Not that youth, necessarily, was a virtue, but in this specific instance, it was more likely to be an advantage than not. 

Furthermore, she was a firm believer in positive bedside manner, in emotional health and in the power of positive thinking. Mindfulness was somewhere in there, too. The point was, she had _studied_ being friendly and likeable.

So, by all means, Angela should be good with kids. It was a reasonable, rational conclusion, based on her qualifications.

Angela frowned at her clipboard. She was in her office, at her desk, her legs crossed as she leaned out of her chair, her elbow on the desk that held her computer. It was cramped, not because Angela was disorganized, but because she was reluctant to put her files away, so they remained stacked on every available surface (and on many parts of the floor, save for the corner of her desk she liked to eat on. A single hanging lamp provided just enough light to read by, and Angela often found herself doing so for many hours (and, one time, two days) at a time. There were no windows, which Angela decided meant only that the building was poorly designed. 

Down the hall was the infirmary, and the experimental test chambers, and the storage room, and beyond those was the hallway that led to the rest of the administrative portions of the base; the mess hall, the cafeteria, the gym, the control room the other offices.

Angela pulled up Captain Amari's file. It didn't mention anything about a daughter, but nobody's files had anything about their family members. If you wanted to know that, you'd have to go and make friends with them the old fashioned way. 

And Angela was good at that, too. Even though she'd been on base for only a short while, she liked to think that she'd made fast friends with pretty much everyone here.

But, really, it shouldn’t bother her that, since Captain Amari started bringing her daughter onto the base, Angela had never been introduced to the girl. She didn't even know her name.

And it really, really shouldn’t bother her that every time Angela had tried to meet Little Amari Junior, she managed to find new and exciting ways to completely embarrass herself. 

 

 

 

 

The first and only time Angela interacted with Ana's daughter had gone bewilderingly terribly.

It was about a month ago, during one of the less busy days on the base.  Ana was teaching the wife of one of the regional directors how to snipe, and this was one of the days it was happening, and Angela thought she might maybe try to talk to a fellow pretty civilian, so she had staked out the mess hall, waiting for an opportunity. But not, like, in a desperate way or anything.

Ana had her daughter in tow; a young girl with shoulder length hair tied into decorative braids that framed her cheeks. She was wearing a sundress and sneakers and she held her mother’s hand dutifully as she was escorted around the military base. 

Ana hung around the mess hall. Eventually, the French lady showed up. 

Ana straightened her cap and held out her hand to Am- Amealy or something? It started with an 'A', Angela knew, and hey, that's something they had in common? Potential conversation starter, maybe.

Amealy (or something) was beautiful, but she was French, so that was a given. She had her dark hair in a ponytail bunched up high at the back of her head. Her skin was perfect and her eyes were deep wells of beauty.

“Amélie,” Ana said. She grinned. “You have been practicing, yes?"

And Amélie (cool, she'd  remember that) responded with a smile like fields of sunflowers and a melodious snippit of french. Angela knew a few European languages, but she hadn't ever gotten around to learning French. Another potential conversation starter, maybe?

Angela didn't have the chance or the nerve to actually approach the two of them, so she just finished her food. As the two adults adjourned into the practice range, Ana's daughter looked a little inscrutable, and ran off.

So Angela just stepped out from her table and waved down the child.

The girl stopped. She turned to Angela and her arms rested by her side and her face went passive.

Angela kneeled down on one knee, casually, resting her left arm on her left thigh. She held out her right hand and smiled her warmest doctor smile.

“Hello there,” Angela said. She held her smile and her outstretched hand towards the girl.

The girl blinked. Her mouth wobbled and she took a step back. She brought her hands to her chest.

Then she turned and ran.

Angela’s mouth opened, as if she was going to call for the girl to come back, but she didn’t, so she closed it. Angela stood back up and brushed her shirt and decided to go and do something she had more success at, like paperwork or clinical diagnoses.

 

 

 

 

It wasn't that Angela was scary. That definitely wasn’t it. Angela was a beautiful angel of hope and light and all the world's children would sing her praises if they only got to meet her.

And besides, twenty three days ago, the day after Angela's first encounter with Baby Amari, put to rest that particular hypothesis. Ana brought her daughter in again, and Angela tracked down Baby Amari to the armory. To try to clear things up and get a proper introduction and ensure that she was good with kids.

And, as far as Angela could tell from the current cultural trends, kids these days _loved_ scary things. Which is probably why, this day, Baby Amari was hanging out with Strike Commander Gabriel Reyes, in the armory.

The armory had rows of metal helping arranged radial around a common area with tables and chairs and the paperwork you needed to check out any of the equipment stored on the shelves or makeshift halls.

Angela passed a few two meter shelves filled with ordinance before she could see clearly into the free space in the center of the armory.

Reyes was here, and so was Baby Amari. She was looking at Reyes’ collection of animals skeletons. Figures; lots of kids that age loved gross things. But Angela was at least three orders of magnitude less scary than a pile of desiccated bird bones, and by extension, at least five orders of magnitude less scary than Commander Reyes. But here she was, Baby Amari, laughing and playing with both of those, after avoiding Angela.

When Angela stepped into view, the girl looked scared and ducked. Angela smiled and waved and thought of something to say to the girl-

But Reyes smiled and stood up and walked towards Dr Ziegler.

Strike commander Gabriel Reyes was a loose cannon and/or a wild card, who played by his own rules but got results. He was also a hoodie rat; today's had an elaborate _Dia de la Muerto_ skull on it.

“Hey, Dr. Ziegler," said Reyes.

“Hello Reyes,” Angela said. She leaned to her left-

And Reyes leaned to his right, to obstruct Dr. Zeigler's view of the armory table and the girl. 

“Is, uh," Angela said. She refreshed her smile. "Is everything all right?"

"You tell me, doc."

Angela frowned. "I'll cut to the chase. Can I see Ana's daughter?"

“Oh? You have some business with little Frito?”

Well, that was obviously a nickname.

Angela leaned to her right. Reyes leaned to his left. "Not specifically, no-"

"Is that so?" Reyes smiled what appeared to be a friendly smile.

"Do I need one, to see her?" Angela stood up straight.

Reyes rubbed his chin and pretended to think. "Hmmm."

"Is there any reason I _can't_ see her?"

"In the infinite universe? There probably is."

Angela's brow flattened. "Ok, fine. Do _you_ know of any reason that this particular instance of myself must not interact with captain Amari's daughter, at this moment?"

Reyes looked up and tapped his chin, pretending to think. "Not really, no."

"Then can you move?"

"I can."

Angela blinked. "Will you move?"

"That remains to be seen."

Angela blinked again. She took a breath. "Please move."

"Sure thing, doc."

Reyes stepped to the side. Angela walked past the soldier, giving him a nod as she did, and she peered unto the open area of the armory-

Aaaand the girl was gone. There wasn't an alternate exit to the room, so that meant the girl was still here, somewhere. 

"Huh, I guess she's gone," said Reyes, facetiously. 

Angela's brow flattened some more. She decided to play along. "Oh? Where did she go?"

"Maybe she's a ghost?"

Angela sighed and regretted deciding  to play along. "Oh? I didn't think ghosts were real."

Angela looked around the area and found a section of tarp, with a pair of child-sized sneakers sticking out under them. Angela smiled. "But maybe I'll be the first to... _discover one!"_ Angela yelled the last two words as she threw open the tarp.

There was a rocket launcher and a pair of empty sneakers. Reyes suppressed a laugh. There was, from somewhere in the armory, a girlish chuckle.

Angela sighed in defeat and tried not to blush in embarrassment. Reyes stopped suppressing his laugh. "Fine, then," Angela said, "I guess I missed my chance to be a ghost-hunter. I shall get back to work."

As Angela left the room, she heard Reyes and the girl resume talking. Angela frowned; what did Reyes have on her?

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And, it turned out, in addition to being a paragon of justice and a guiding compass to the potential disaster that was the Overwatch initiative, commander Jack Morrison was also Ana's chief babysitter or something. 

Angela would have thought that this would have been a good thing. She was friendly with Jack, and out of all the violent vigilantes that composed Overwatch, his vision of the future and of the role that Overwatch should play in world affairs most closely resembled her's. So, about two weeks ago, when Angela chanced upon Morrison in the cafeteria storage room giving Ana's daughter a lecture about the need for personal virtue in upholding justice for society, it seemed like an opportune time to meet the girl. 

Big mistake that was. Angela tried to put that whole incident out of her mind. And it took days to clean the banana pudding out of her clothes.

 

 

 

 

 

And, just last week, on the way to the mess hall, Angela saw Amari junior riding on crusader Wilhelm Reinhard’s shoulders, laughing almost as hard as the old soldier, and pointing forward as the largest man in the organization played horsey with a small child.

Angela waved them down, and Wilhelm waved back and started walking towards the doctor.

The child put on her poker face. She tapped her left foot against Reinhardt's shoulder, but Wilhelm didn't change direction. 

"Hey Reinhardt," Angela said, when they were close.

The child tapped her left foot harder. Her poker face slipped a couple times.

"Hello, Frau Doctor!" Wilhelm bellowed.

“Wilhelm,” whined the child, “You're supposed to go left when I tap your left shoulder~"

 "Oh! Of course, but it would be rude to just ignore the good doctor."

"Oh, aha, don't mind me," Angela began. She was probably going to continue into some small talk about what the crusaders had been up to, but then Captain Amari showed up.

 "Ana!" Reinhardt bellowed. He bowed before the captain and took Ana's hand in his own and smooched it. "You are looking as lovely as ever."

"Nooooooo~" whined the child.

Ana touched her collarbone with her free hand and smiled. "Oh, Wilhelm, you charmer. You are looking quite well yourself."

"Noooooooooo~" whined the child, in a higher pitch.

Ana's tone shifted from flirty to stern. "Knock it off, you little brat." Ana grabbed her daughter's cheek and pulled.

"Ah, mooooom~," Ana's daughter whined. She tried to fight her mother off.

Ana and her daughter scuffled for a little bit, with Reinhardt as the battefield. He seemed completely nonplussed. Then Ana brushed herself off and tried to look dignified.

"Very well, habibti. I'm glad you and Wilhelm are getting along."

Ana's daughter also tried to pretend the fight didn't happen. "Yeah we're playing horsey!"

Wilhelm bowed theatrically. "She is a valiant knight, and I am her noble steed." 

"And a mighty stallion you are, Wilhelm."

"Nooooooooooooooooooo~"

And Ana grabbed her child's face again for the second round of the kerfuffle.

Angela smiled and said something that the others didn't hear, and she left, slightly disappointed. Idly, she wondered how much weight she could carry on her shoulders. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And the day before yesterday, Angela's consternation had gotten to the point where she had to complain about it to her best friend.

It was lunch time, in the compound's cafeteria. Angela slumped over her table, picking at her latest cup of coffee and a carefully balanced lunch.  "Why doesn't she liiiikkke meeee?" Angela rubbed her cheek on the table, next to her food.

“Do you really need everyone to like you?” Jesse replied, between bites of his pulled pork sandwich. Barbecue sauce dripped onto his tray.

The cafeteria looked smaller than it was, due to all the alcoves and benches. She and Jesse were in one now, next to a window. Their booth had four empty chairs and enough table space for three more trays.

Jesse McCree was the only other seventeen-year-old on base, so Angela was friends with him, even though he was a trigger happy vigilante ex-criminal who bought into the lie of the cowboy image too much. There were other reasons they were friends, too.

"Why shouldn't everybody like me?" Angela asked, not completely to Jesse.

"Delusions of grandeur, egomania, and the fact that you occasionally spend 48 consecutive hours on the base, without showering." Jesse took another bite of his sandwich.

"There's probably some misinformation going around," Angela continued, to herself, "If I just get that first conversation, she'll know how friendly I am."

Jesse looked put off for just a moment. Then his cavalier smirk returned. “Well, if that's all you want, then you've got another chance. There she is now,” Jesse pointed-

Angela followed the point, towards the cafeteria entrance. At the edge of the buffet lines, there was a short man with a magnificent blonde beard; Overwatch's chief weapons engineer, Torbjörn Lindholm. Next to him was Ana's daughter. They were about the same height, and Angela tried not to derive any amusement from that observation. Ana's daughter was, at that moment, looking right at her with her usual poker face.

Angela waved them down. Lindholm waved back, but the child pulled on his hand and the engineer leaned over and the girl whispered something.

Then the girl left. Angela blinked, twice, in disappointment. 

However, after he got his meal of meat and carbohydrates and a giant bag of gummi bears, Lindholm took a seat at their table.

“Hey,” Angela said, “How are you doing, Mr. Lindholm?"

"Oh, great, doctor." said the engineer. "'aven't burned or cut myself this last week, which is why ya 'aven't seen me in yer clinic recently, ha!"

Angela laughed along. "And, uh, I see you've got an interesting lunch." She gestured to the bag of candy.

"Oh, yes. Reyes needed some scrap metal forged for a personal project, and a bag of gummi bears is the customary bribe."

"You," Angela began, "Accept bribes?"

Lindholm waved the air. "Not for nothin' illegal, dontcha worry. Gabriel just needed some of my help and he made it worth my while. There's lots of bags of gummi bears floating around the base."

Idly, Angela wondered why nobody had attempted to bribe her with gummi bears since she'd started working here.

Lindholm turned to Jesse. “So yer the kiddo Gabriel’s teaching how to draw quick and shoot straight, ya?"

Jesse put on an air of propriety. “Oh. Yes. That's me; the kiddo."

“'ow’s that going?"

“Pretty good. It’s the first straight thing I’ve done in my life, actually." Jesse smirked.

Angela chuckled along. “Oh I know what that’s like. I am literally the worst at straight things."

Jesse and Angela tried to stifle their laughter.

Lindholm took a bite of his meat. “That’s a common misconception, actually. All guns shoot straight, but any slight variation in how yer 'olding it means yer gonna miss. Ya can't bend bullets, like, 's what I mean."

Angela blinked. Jesse blinked. They looked at each other and let out identical, subdued chuckles.

"Is that so?" said Angela

"Yes." Lindholm continued, "Well, except for snipers. When you're shooting at exceptionally long ranges, things like wind speed and fall due to gravity will affect yer flight path, so I guess any sniper worth their salt would end up shooting curvy."

Angela and Jesse shot each other stupid glances. It didn't help them stop laughing.

“So what you’re saying is,” Jesse said, “Is that no sniper is a _straight_ shooter.”

“I guarantee it,” Lindholm stated. Angela burst out laughing.

Lindholm looked up from his food. "Hmmm?"

"Oh, I, just- funny thing I remembered," Angela managed to say. Jesse was enjoying himself as well.

"We'll tell you about it sometime, perhaps," Jesse said.

 Angela wiped a tear from her eye that she had laughed out. "So, Lindholm," She said, "I couldn't help but notice you had captain Amari's daughter in tow, earlier."

Lindholm laughed. "Ah, yes. Farby's very interested in armor. I put an old plate on her and set her against one of the training turrets. It shoots foam balls that bounce right off. Very fun."

Angela nodded. "So what did, ah, Farby have to do, so suddenly?"

"Oh, she forgot something in the shop."

"And it's been ten minutes. Did she say she was coming back or…"

“I’m sure she’s just taking her time,” Lindholm said, “I mean whats the worst that could happen in… my metalworking shop…."

Angela remembered being in there once. It actually had open vats of molten metal, in some areas, among other horrible safety code violations.

Lindholm stood up suddenly. “Ibettergocheckonher-”

And he raced out of the room.

Welp. There went Angela's latest chance to talk to the girl. At least she found out her name, now.

"I hope Farby's okay, though." Angela said.

Jesse chuckled.

"What?"

"Her name's Fareeha," Jesse said. "I'm not sure where Torb's getting 'Farby'."

Angela furrowed her brow. "And how do you know that?"

"Ana introduced us," Jesse said. That knowledge made Angela deeply and indescribably upset, for some reason.

Perhaps Jesse caught her facial expression. "You know," Jesse said, "You could just ask Ana to introduce you two."

"Ahahaha." Angela said, "You know me; I don't know if that's the best idea-"

"If you're obsessing about it that much, then you've gotta, right? And if you think about it, asking Ana is probably the normal channel you'd go through if you wanted to be introduced to her daughter."

Angela sighed. When Jesse was right, he was right.

 

 

 

And that led to yesterday.  Angela hadn't been quite looking forward to the opportunity to make a complete fool of herself in front of an attractive older woman. It wasn’t deliberate or anything, it’s just that her brain seemed to develop some sort of aphasia and/or loss of impulse control whenever she was in that sort of situation.

But it happened; Angela managed to corner Ana in the hallway, that afternoon.

“Captain Amari,” Angela said.

“Dr. Ziegler.” Amari nodded. 

Angela smiled. “So you’ve been bringing a young girl to the base a lot, recently. Is she your daughter?"

Ana scrunched her mouth to the side and titled her head down. She was amused, most likely, but maybe she wasn't, which would mean Angela would have to say something, quick-

“I mean," Angela refreshed her smile. "Maybe she’s a young clone of yourself? I mean, she looks like you."

Ana blinked.

Angela's smile wavered, just a bit. "Like, she's there for you to harvest her organs, when your liver loses the fight against alcohol."

Ana blinked.

Angela resisted the urge to smack her forehead.  "Not that I'm judging your lifestyle or anything. And your latest physical turned out great, by the way."

Ana blinked.

Angela sweated. "Not that I know that off the top of my head or anything , because that... be, uh, creepy..." Angela again successfully resisted the urge to smack her forhead.

Ana blinked again. 

Then Ana burst out laughing. She patted Angela shoulder with a heavy, body-shaking smack. "Oh, Dr Zeigler, always with the jokes."

Angela chuckled nervously.

“Yes, that’s my little darling. We’re between tutors right now, so she wanted to spend time with her dear mother and her old friends. I am so happy that all of Overwatch considers her a daughter. ”

Angela smiled. “Well, I know I'm only auxiliary civilian support, but I don’t think you’ve formally introduced me-"

"Oh, did I hurt your feelings? I am so sorry, Dr. Ziegler."

Angela refreshed her smile. "I-I didn't mean to imply that-"

“You are right, though. Looks like I haven’t introduced you.” Ana rubbed her chin. “To be fair, though, most of Overwatch has known her since she was born, so I haven't had to introduce her to anyone here for years. I guess it slipped my mind. And I suppose Jesse will need a formal introduction as well. So yes, you may have your formal introduction, if you wish."

 _“Underbar!_ I’m free in the afternoons. And probably in the mornings. And I guess I can use my lunch breaks. Basically anytime I'm not with a patient. Which isn't that often, since it's been a while between missions. "

And Angela managed to resist the urge to smack herself until the end of the conversation.

 

 

 

 

 

 

And that led to today. Right now.

Ana had scheduled the introduction for 3:00 PM sharp. It was the most interesting scheduled to happen to Angela all day, so she was looking forward to it, but, not, like, in a desperate way.

Angela practiced swiveling her chair around and removing her reading glasses and smiling (to make sure she wasn't scary), and leaning forward slightly and her hello. ‘Sali zämme’, she'd say. Or maybe she'd just speak English. She didn't know _any_ Arabic, and Angela'd just be showing off if she tried to speak Mandarin or Spanish. Hmmm, what would be the friendliest introduction?

And, somehow, the meeting still took Angela off guard.

“Dr. Ziegler!” Ana bellowed, at 3:00 PM sharp. Angela nearly jumped out of her chair. Then she did so for real, but on purpose, in a dignified way, so she could give a salute.

"C-captain Amari," Angela managed to say.

Ana smiled. "I'm here to formally introduce my little habibti." Ana turned and gestured to her daughter. "This is Fareeha. You've probably seen her around the base, but pretend you didn't so this can be a formal introduction."

And Fareeha was there in a cute little sundress, her hands clasped in front of her. Her hair was up, though the front sides of her hair were done in braids. Fareeha was smiling, gently, and she looked a lot more adult than in the previous times Angela had seen her.

“And habibti, this is Dr. Ziegler. She became a doctor at the age of fifteen,” Ana pinched her daughter’s cheek. “And you could too, if you study hard enough."

And Fareeha's vernier of professional adulthood vanished. She pouted and swatted ineffectually at her mother's hands.

"Mo~om!”

“And Angela speaks four languages!” Ana pinched both of Fareeha’s cheeks and puled her face in opposite directions, “And _you_ don’t even want to learn your mother’s mother tongue.”

"Well," Angela interjected,"It's only two that I'm fluent-"

"ugh, moo~oom! Stoo~oop~"

Ana stood up straight and did that thing where she pretended the previous fight didn't happen. “Fareeha was very excited when I told her you wanted to meet her, you know?"

Angela blinked. That conclusion was not supported by any of her previous observations from the last month. “Was she now?"

“Yes, she even bathed yesterday in preparation for this-"

“MOM!” Fareeha’s cheeks reddened as she puffed them out. “She doesn’t need to know that-"

Ana smirked and continued speaking to Angela. “Though maybe she should do that everyday, now. She's getting that age now, you know, when she has to start bathing every day."

"Oh my god, MOM!"

"And she was a bit of a late bloomer, but she's growing up so fast, now," Ana leaned forward and put her hand to the side of her face and smirked, "You know, we just got her her first training bra-"

"Mom you’re so embarrassing!" Fareeha sobbed, "I hate you!"

Fareeha turned to run away, her sleeve on her eyes but Ana grabbed her shoulder.

Ana’s face looked like she’d just been slapped. Metaphorically, that was true, no?

Ana leaned down to her daughter's face and seethed something in Arabic.

Ana turned to Angela, her face suddenly all smiles. “You’ll excuse us for a moment, won’t you?”

Angela didn’t have the chance to respond.

Ana dragged her daughter to the hallway, outside of the office. Their conversation was mufgled, but, maybe, Angela was a bit of an eavesdropper.

 

 

Angela put her ear to the crack in the door.

"You ‘hate’ me?" came Ana's voice, "Fareeha, you know I do everything I can for you- where’s this coming from?"

Faheera sounded like she was about to cry. "You said I’d get to meet Dr. Ziegler but you’re just telling her embarrassing stuff about me-" There was the sound of sniffling. "You always do this, mom!"

"Oh, baby girl, I'm so sorry. But you're always so proud when I talk about how big you’ve grown to Wilhelm or Gabriel-"

"You don’t talk about my – my training bra and stuff with them-"

"Dr Zeigler's a woman, so it's fine."

"No it's not!"

"Okay, okay, you like your privacy. I'll just stick to your height and your grades, then." There was soft wumph, like a hug. "Just tell me when you start bleeding-"

"OH MY GOD, MOM!"

But then there was mutual chuckling. "So, do you still want to meet Dr. Zeigler?"

"Yes, but you have to be out of the room."

"What?" Ana pretended to sound hurt.

"Mooom~"

"Okay, very well then."

And then there were footsteps that grew louder. Angela jumped back and stood up straight and smiled.

The door opened. Ana poked her head in. "Now, Dr. Zeigler, let's try that again-"

"No, mom! You have to leave!" Fareeha put both her hands on her mother's stomach and tried to push the adult out of the room. Ana allowed it, chuckling all the while.

And the door closed.

Fareeha turned to Angela. She took a breath and closed her eyes and opened them an smiled. “Hello Dr. Ziegler,” Fareeha spoke more softly and she folded hands in front of her.

 "Please," Dr. Ziegler said, "Call me Angela."

“You’re really pretty, Angela,” Faheera said. Her hands were clasped before her and her head was tilted down. She smiled.

It was so true. Angela smiled back. “Thank you."

“I really like your under-eyeshadow."

"Oh, that’s actually, uh,” Angela said. She touched the bags under her eyes. “A physiological side effect of sleep deprivation.”

"Oh." Fareeha tilted her head. "You've had them every time I've seen you. Is- is that bad?

Angela shrugged and tried to look cool. "I'm used to it."

Fareeha seemed to accept that.

 

 

 

 

So they talked about the general small talk stuff; Fareeha asked about when Angela started working on the base and what Medical school was like and stuff like that.

And they talked about about things Angela wouldn't have expected a twelve year old to know or have opinions about, like the role of an extrajudicial military peacekeeping force in world affairs.

Fareeha really idolized Overwatch. It made sense because her mother was a prominent figure in the organization, but she also seemed to appreciate the intent and the structure and even the aesthetic choices of the peacekeeping force.  And she especially liked the people in it. She went on about how cool Jack and Reyes and Lindholm were-

And she had especially a lot to say about Reinhardt.

"When I grow up, I'm going to be just like him!” Fareeha said, after listing her reasons why Reinhardt was cool. "I’ll get my own suit of armor that I'll never take off and I’ll fight for justice for the innocent, all the time, no matter what!"

"Ah,” Angela said. She nodded slowly, “You know, there’s a lot of of ways to achieve ‘justice’. Not just by fighting, you know?"

Fareeha tilted her head to the side.

Angela continued. "Often times, fighting for justice is just an excuse that violent people use to justify their inclinations, and having an existing system that legitimizes violence can normalize the use of violence to the point that unjust violence runs rampant. That's why I'd like to see more organizations arise that are explicitly dedicated to nonviolence in their solutions."

Fareeha tilted her head to the other side. "So is that why you became a doctor?"

Oooh, that was getting in to a whole can of worms, so to speak. But outwardly, Angela just smiled and said, "Yes, actually. But I was getting more to the idea that logistics and planning can help people to a great extent, without escalating an arms race."

"For example, right now I am coordinating the expansion of a clinic in a nation that just went through a civil war." Angela tapped a stack of paperwork. "The logistics of establishing a sustainable medical program are difficult, but once thats established, can save thousands of lives over the years. Me developing medical education systems and coordinating the transport of resources saves much more lives than I could personally by treating patients. So that's why I do what I do." Angela gestured to the door, "And I still enjoy doing surgeries and checkups- you've seen the remote operating table and the waiting room, yes?- but I go to bed happy that I'm helping so many people."

Fareeha nodded, solemnly and incredulously. "I don't know if I'd ever be happy pushing papers all day."

Angela laughed, in part due to denial. "Oh, perhaps you'll get there someday. It's part of growing up, yes?"

 

 

 

 

And after a very nice conversation, Angela waved Fareeha farewell.

Angela smiled as the door closed. See? All she needed was that first conversation and now they were friends. But now she should really get back to her work. Angela turned around-

Ana was there. Angela flinched.

"Hello, Dr. Ziegler," Ana said.

"Oh! Um, h-hello, captain Amari," Angela sputtered.

"I couldn’t help but overhear your speech about justice and nonviolent ways to help people."

Angela paused. Then she cleared her throat. “The door was closed. So you would have had to be actively eavesdropping on the conversation-"

Ana smiled and tapped her nose with her left hand while waving the air with her right.

“But you know,” Ana said, her expression now more somber, “Being a soldier is a tragic life. I don’t want my habibti to have the same heartbreak I have."

Angela blinked and processed the words.

“So I was hoping that," Ana said, "Perhaps, you could nudge her into medicine. She'll save more lives and be more happy."

Angela got the mental image of shoving Fareeha into a medicine cabinet. No! Stupid brain, get focused.

“You want me to train her to be a doctor? I don't know if I'm ready to take on an apprentice-"

“No no,” Ana waved the air again, “Not as such. Perhaps one day, but I was hoping you could, perhaps, impress upon her the glorious life that awaits a medical doctor?"

“Yeah, you give up sleep but you learn exactly what each random cough you get is called."

Ana chuckled. Then her face became serious. “Jokes aside, this is something I wish for. I do not want her to be around so much death."

"And, jokes aside, doctors see just as much death as soldiers do. Even more, because germs don't follow any Geneva convention against killing children and the wounded."

"But you are always trying to help people. You never actively cause someone else's suffering."

"Which means that if people die, it's a direct result of your mistakes. You still actively cause death, then."

Ana blinked. "Are you really arguing against the utility of being a doctor?"

"Oh! No, no, but, um." Angela did something awkward with her hands. "I was getting at, there is a certain amount of heartbreak in every fight for justice, whether it be against other soldiers or the forces of biological breakdown. Granted, the latter would be going better if the former weren't there to help it along, but if you're concerned about your daughter being happy, maybe she should be in some sort of beaurocratic profession, far away from the battlefield?"

Ana nodded solemnly. "I hadn't considered that. But I feel that she wants justice, no? So she would not truly be happy unless she were helping people."

Then Ana smiled. "And I'm not asking you to be the motivating factor in her life. Just, to tell her about some of the wonders of modern medicine, every so often? Can you oblige?"

“Oh! Oh, yeah,” Angela said, “hey, I’ve never had a protegee before, but that sounds lovely-"

“Good good,” Ana pulled Angela’s right hand into a shake and clasped her other hand around Angela’s. The grip was strong and the pats were a little more forceful than necessary. "Can you come over for dinner, some time this week?"

"Oh, um, yes, assuming you didn't want me literally _for_ your dinner, aha," Angela said. Then she grimaced, on the inside.

Ana blinked.

Angela coughed. "Aha, yes, I mean, definitely. Let me know what time works?"

"How about next Wednesday? Bring your best life advice." 

“Okay, yes! I look forward to it."

Angela nodded and then she thought of something. "So, uh,” she said, “I hope I’m not being too nosy, but, um, what role does her father play in her aspirations? Perhaps he can better provide that sort of direction."

Ana’s face shifted onto the sterner edge of neutral. "Fareeha’s male progenitor and I have decided that it be best if I raise her alone."

“Oh!" Angela smiled awkwardly. "Oh. Ok. I am sorry to hear that.”

Ana then smiled, more warmly than Angela expected. “Perhaps that sounded harsh; he is a good man and we are on very good terms, but his occupation is dangerous and while he excels at many things, fatherhood is not one of them."

Angela nodded and bit her tongue.

“And he spends a lot of quality time with my darling, even if she isn't quite aware of who he is."

Angela blinked. "Wait," she said, "Is he on base? Is that how he can keep spending time with Fareeha?"

Ana’s mouth flattened. She blinked a couple times and coughed, unconvincingly. “No~” she said.

Angela’s face fell. “Remind me to play poker against you sometime."

Ana laughed at that.

"So," Angela ventured, "Is it Morrison?"

"It's not Jack."

"She really takes after him, ideology wise."

"So does most of the public. So do _you."_

Angela scrunched her mouth. "Point taken. So is it Reyes? He seems to have a soft spot for her."

“Gabriel is more complicated than he might appear to be, at first glance. He's very sweet, when he wants to be."

“Hmm, I'll have to take your word on that," Angela said. "So how about Reinhardt? You and he are very friendly."

“Yes, because I sleep with anyone I’m friendly with.” Ana’s face flattened.

Angela cringed, just a bit, and mentally admonished herself. “I didn’t mean it like that-"

“You must be aware by now that I'm going to interpret everything you say in the worst possible way," Ana said, seriously. Then she smirked.

"Aha. So I guess that leaves Lindholm-"

"Yes. You guessed it," Ana deadpanned, "It’s definitely Torbjörn. That’s why he and Fareeha are the same height."

Angela took too long to get the joke. 

"Wait," Angela said, "So you were lying on one of those-"

"Zeigler! These questions are out of line!" Ana barked.

Angela flinched. She saluted as best she could remember how. "Yes ma'am!"

"Now give me fifty laps around the running track." Ana clapped twice. "Hop to it!"

Fifty laps?! Was that even humanly possible? On paper, Angela had seen it, but she secretly had doubts. 

"I- I'm pretty sure that we're technically not in the same department, and you have no jurisdiction over me-"

"Fifty laps, Zeigler!" Ana yelled. Her eye bulged out and her expression appeared angry, except for the smile on her lips. **"Now!"**  

"Yes ma'am!" 

And that's how Angela ran the hardest she could ever remember running in her life.

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Dinner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela eats dinner at the Amari's.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guarantee no expertise in Overwatch Canon, Middle Eastern food, philosophy, history, or grammar. Awkwardness I do have some experience in, and I hope it's captured believeably.

Angela stared at her food, glumly.

It was lunch time. She was at the cafeteria, sitting alone in the corner, slumped over. Her mouth was in a frown, or perhaps a pout. 

Her phone was on the table. She unlocked it by tapping the screen with her nose. Pulling up her medical journals was harder, and she was too glum to scroll through the pages of text. So she instead opted just to graze at her salad and wait for someone to notice her. 

Eventually, Jesse sat down, across from her.

“Woah there,” he said, “Did your date with the captain go _that_ badly?”

“It wasn’t a date!” Angela whined. She pouted more, but out of a general discontent, not specifically because of Jesse (not that the recalictrant fake-cowboy didn't warrant it, a little). “It’s just, I don't think I could handle that sort of commitment right now, you know?”

Jesse blinked.

“We still don’t know each other that well,” Angela said. She tilted her head to the side. “So, like, I don’t know if she’ll be good for me, even if she is really cool, as far as I've gotten to know her." 

Angela pontificated, but only with her face. "And I still have massive amounts of student debt, you know? I really couldn't justify the outrageous markups on everything for the wedding. And then we'd have to plan it and I always saw myself planning my wedding, but I'd need time to figure out how to do it." 

Angela titled her head to the other side. "And my student debt would also affect the kind of mortgage we could get for our house, and, like, that's not something I want affecting the relationship."

Jesse blinked again.

Angela tilted her head to the first side and she looked at the ceiling.  “And she has a kid. I mean, I‘d have to juggle my medical career with helping raising a kid. A kid who's about to be a teenager, even, and those are supposedly the hardest years of childraising, and I kind of want to focus on my career right now, you know?" 

Jesse took picked up some of his food. "Not to mention, you’re still only seventeen,” he said. He took a bite of his sandwich.

Angela nudged her glass with her cheek. “No, that only matters if we want to consummate our relationship right away. We can date wihtout any problems. And I think I’m the kind of girl who could wait, if the person was right, you know? I mean, my whole life I was too young to date any of my classmates, so I have a lot of experience there." 

Jesse scrunched his mouth. Then he coughed. “You know, my original question was intended as a joke."

Angela blinked. “Oh," she said. She tried not to blush. 

Angela wrapped her lips around the edge of her glass of orange juice. She bit the cup and picked it up with her mouth, tilting it just enough for orange juice to slosh into her mouth, under her teeth.

Jesse half-sighed and half-laughed. "Here, ya galoot." He went and got a straw and stuck it in Angela's cup.

"Thank you," Angela said. She drank out of the straw with a slurping noise.

“But, specifically, you never answered my original question,“ Jesse said. “How'd your dinner date go?"

Angela titled her head to the side again. "Weellll..."

 

<\-----------------------------------------------

 

 

Angela had gotten to the Amari’s house about ten minutes early. It helped to be early and she figured she could help steady herself against any supremely embarassing lines of conversation she might go down.

Angela had been dressed formally because she wanted them to think she was professional, but not, like, in a desperate way or anything.

Fareeha answered the door. She was wearing a t-shirt and sweatpants and she blinked a couple times at Angela. Her mouth was slack and she trembled, just a bit.

“W-what are you doing here?" said Fareeha.

“Uhhh,” Angela refreshed her smile. Her brain had decided to run through all the bad possibilities. Like, maybe she got the day wrong? Or the time? Or if Captain Amari was just joking, and this wasn't even her house-

"Well," Angela began. She refreshed her smile. "Your mother invited me over to dinner." 

Fareeha blinked. 

“Excuse me for a moment,” said the child. She closed the door. In Angela's face. 

Angela blinked a few times. Well. That was weird. She contemplated knocking again, right after, and she wondered if there was, like, a respawn timer for Fareeha to answer the door. 

There were speaking noises from inside the house. Angela, after almost no hesitation, put her ear to the keyhole -

“- why didn’t you tell me that Dr. Ziegler was coming over tonight?"

“I wanted it to be a surprise! So: surprise!"

“Ugh!“ Fareeha said, “Mom, you’re the worst!"

Ana sounded taken aback. “I’m sorry, I thought you'd like it if the good doctor came over to visit." 

“Not as a surprise! I- I'll be right back- can you stall her?" 

Ana didn't answer. Then there was the sound of some running, and then the door opened. Angela jumped back and hoped nobody saw her.

“Ah, Dr. Ziegler," Ana said. She smiled. "Let's try this again, shall we? Welcome to our home."

Angela chuckled. "Thank you, Captain. Its's an honor."

"Oh, please," Ana put her hand to her collarbone, "Call me 'Ana'. You are a guest, today. And, possibly, a future mentor to my sweet baby girl?" 

Angela nodded. "Yes; I remember what you told me. I'll try my best to dissuade her from becoming a soldier."

"Wonderful. And one more thing-" Ana leaned in, to whisper to Angelas ear. The doctor tried not to blush. "Try not to let Fareeha know that you're here to sway her opinion, and _definitely_ don't tell her I put you up to this." 

"O-ok." Angela squeaked. She regained her composure. "But- why wouldn't you want her to know of your involvement?"

Ana leandd back upright and tapped her nose. "Mommy reasons." She breathed. "So, would you like a tour?" 

Then Ana had given Angela a tour of her apartment. It was a nice, humble little setup; a kitchen, bathroom, and living room on the floor and stairs up to a pair of bedrooms and another bathroom and a balcony, for the occasional bouts of sky- or people-watching. 

And Ana led Angela back to the kitchen.

“I hope you some enjoy falafel. It's the most globalized food I know how to make, so it's our main course. There's a salad and a bread as well, if you're not feeling adventurous."

"Oh. Oh, no, you didn't have to do that; I'm totally adventurous when it comes to cuisine," lied Angela.

"Oh? Well, in that case, we have some lamb eyeball stew in the fridge we can bring out, just for you."

Angela managed to maintain her smile. "Oh? I was not aware that that was a dish. I guess it makes sense, though; eyeballs are a good source of zinc and they have high fat content." 

"What I said earlier was intended as a joke," Ana deadpanned.

 Angela blinked. “Oh," she said. She tried not to blush. "Um. Me too?" Angela said.

 Ana laughed, suddenly, and slapped Angela on the back, twice, vigorously. "Oh, Dr. Zeigler! Always with the jokes." 

"Ahaha," Angela chukled, nervously. 

And, at some point, Angela became aware of a lack of sound. Some static in the background had stopped.

And afterwards, Fareeha descended the stairs, dressed semi-formally. Her hair was wet, but done up in her signature braids. 

"Hello Fareeha. Did you shower?" Angela asked. 

Fareeha blinked.

Ana chuckled and waved the air. “No, there was a rainstorm in our bathroom, and my habibti forgot to pack an umbrella." 

Fareeha laughed.

“Oh, that's cool,” Angela, said, “I know that some buildings that are large enough to have their own atmosphere. I didn't know they made bathrooms like that, but I suppose it would make showering easier- wait..."

Ana blinked.

Fareeha chuckled, nervously. "That- uh- my mom was joking, just then. Actually."

Angela blinked. “Oh," she said. She tried not to blush. 

 

 

 

 

\--------------------------------------> 

 

"So you're a surgeon, right?" Interrupted Jesse.

Angela frowned.  "An omnidisciplinary doctor, so I am a capable surgeon, yes."

"So are you qualified  to surgically remove the foot from your mouth? Or do you need to be under while a second surgeon performs the operation?" 

"Ha. Ha. Ha. " Angela deadpanned. "I can tell you're joking, there." 

"Guess that fancy education was worth something then." 

 "Yes; my medical liscense."

Jessie blinked. He wiped some barbecue sauce off his mouth. "Anyway, how'd the rest of your dinner go?"

Angela sighed. " It went well, after that. Up until I tried to actually teach Fareeha about pacifism." 

 

<\-------------------------------------

 

 

They had finished their dinner. Angela wondered if she appeared disrespectful for not finishing her third helping- forced onto her plate by Captian Amari herself- but hosts had their own partially finished helpings.

Fareeha was standing up in her chair, pontificating wildly, as she recounded second-hand the famous battles of the Overwatch organization. Angela tried not to get annoyed; she'd heard much of the same from many of her co-workers, and Reinhardt had a few decades of storytelling experience on Fareeha.

"You know," Angela said, "There's other ways to help people out, without fighting." 

"Yeah, but I want to be cool and tough, like my mom, or Reinhart, or Gabriel, or Jack and Torbjorn."

Ana looked over the doctor, as if she were evaluating her performance. 

"You know, a man named Mahatma Ghandi managed to free the entire Indian country from British colonial rule through nonviolent means."

"Yeah, but that only worked because the British were dedicated to looking like the good guys. He also advocated a policy of nonconftation for Jewish citizens of Germany during the third Reich, and that didn't work out too well for them."

"Ok, fine- forget the historical context around Ghandi the person, even though he did accomplish a lot with nonviolent civil disobedience. I wanted to bring up some of his philosophy."

"Didn’t Ghandi say something like, 'if violence is in one’s nature that it is better to be violent to not do anything'?"

"That’s an oft-misquoted excerpt that people interpret to mean the opposite of what Ghandi meant. The full quote is: 'It is better to be violent, if there is violence in our hearts, than to put on the cloak of non-violence to cover impotence. Violence is any day preferable to impotence. There is hope for a violent man to become non-violent. There is no such hope for the impotent.'"

"So what's that mean?"

"It means that the opposite of conviction is apathy, and that non-violent resistence is more than just 'not fighting back'. It is having courage to face an adversary, the discipline to not counter violence with violence, and the determination to get hurt or even die for your beliefs."

"That's dumb," Fareeha frowned, "You'd rather die than try to make a difference?"

"The two are not mutually exclusive."

"But you'll be dead."

"Think of a cause as being bigger than just yourself. It matters to other people too, and it is for them yiur sacrifice I'd made."

"Do you think nonviolent resistance would work against the Omnics?"

"Well," Angela said, "I think if knowledge causes a problem, then its solution will not be ignorance. I find it hard to belive that the only solution to turn off malfunctioning electronics is to shoot them."

"In my experience," Ana said, "Bullets make the best 'off switches."

Angela laughed at that. Fareeha rolled her eyes.

"But until then," Fareeha said, "People need protecting, and if violence can do that, why shouldnt it?"

"I don't disagree with that; if you think of some things as natural disasters, then you should prtext yourself. Sandstorms or rabid wolves would not be impressed with nonviolent resistance-"

"But you're not suposed to react with violence to other people? That seems contradictory."

"I mean, think of the intent behind the action. If you face a group of people with compassion, even when it is hard, you can make a better world than if you try to escalate things with fighting."

Fareeha frowned at the table and seemed to consider things. Ana smiled, slightly, and nodded.

"And that's the big problem with Overwatch. If you maintain a dedicated military force that's goal is not to end violence, but to use it for the advencement of different causes, many of which are predicated on peaceful coexistence- well, I think that makes problems, no?"

Ana frowned, then.

"I mean, 'when all you have is a hammer', right? Overwatch attracts the kind of problems that are easy to apply violence to, and the kind of people who would apply violence when it would only cause problems." Angela laughed, “Do you think people like Reyes are strong enough to put aside violence? Would you strive to be like him?" 

Both Amari’s blinked, disapprovingly. 

Ana cleared her throat. “Gabriel has his issues, but he tries. He is a good man, inside." 

"But that's the thing," Angela said, “It's not hard succumb to violent impulses. It's easy to lash out, but the compassion and mental forititude to commit to peace take work. So in that way, he is a very impotent man."

"Angela, you are badmouthing my coworkers," Ana said.

"I-," Angela suddenly glushed, "I mean, I'm sorry but, I have to call it like I see it, and I don't think 

Farehha frowned, just a bit. 

Ana leaned back and crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes and smirked, slightly. "I invite you into my home, I feed you food I cooked myself, and you insult my friends in front of my daughter. Tsk."

"I-" Angela tensed. "I'm sorry, but you told me-" 

"Ah-ah-ah~" Ana put a finger up. 

Fareeha looked at her mother quizzically. Angela clamped her mouth shut. 

"Well, I suppose I can forgive you, Dr. Zeigler, after some remuneration. Now drop and give me fifty!" Ana barked the last bit. 

Angela immediately fell to the floor. She rolled onto her side and pulled out her wallet, searching for a fifty-unit money note. 

“What- No!” Ana yelled, “I meant fifty _push-ups_! Actually, make that _one hundred_ push ups!"

Anglea froze. _One hundred_ push ups? Was that even humanly possible?

“Of course it is,” said Ana, “Fareeha can do at least that many, and she's only 2/3'rds your age. "

And then Fareeha was down on the floor, besides her, “C’mon, Angela! I’ll do them with you.

Angela rolled onto her stomach and managaed, after a lot of effort, to push her torso off the ground. Her arms shook.

“No,” laughed Fareeha, “You have to keep your back straight, and your toes pointed. Here, watch me:" 

Fareeha demonstrated the proper form, but Angela didn't seem to be able to grasp it by the time she got too tired to continue.

 

 

 --------------------------------------> 

 

 

"So that's why you've been pretending to be a sad Apatosaurus today," Jesse said. He looked marginally impressed. "It's impressive, though, doing 100 push-ups, especially considering you're not particularly athletic." 

"I only managed 18," Angela said.

Jesse's expression flattened. "And they're now completely drained? Just, completely useless?" 

Angela pouted and nodded.

"Didn't you have to carry, like, books and medical equipment and cadavers in school?" 

Angela laid her face on the table. "I had electronic copies of all my books, the older students always moved equipment for me, and we let the morticians handle all the bodies."

"Well, looks like Ana's coming to lunch, now, so you got yer opportunity to tell her how she ruined yer arms." 

Angela's head shot up, and the tried to sit up straight and look dignified.  

Fareeha paused when she saw Angela, but she smiled and resumed her walk. She was wearing a jacket and baggy pants

Fareeha walked up to their table and glanced at the floor. "H-hey Angela," she said, "Can my mom and I sit here?"

"Oh! Yes, of course," Angela said. "I was hoping you'd ask, actually." Fareeha brightened at that. 

Jesse glanced at Angela, real quick. "It's fine with me," he said.  

Fareeha placed her tray down and climbed into the chair opposite Angela. "Are your arms still tired?" 

Angela intensified her pout and nodded. "Tired and sore," she said. 

"Here," Fareeha got out of the chair and walked over to behind Angela. She squeezed the upper part of Angela's arms. "If you massage your muscles after the fact it can make up for not stretching before your workout."

"Ooooh, that's nice," Angela emitted. the massage helped a lot. She was going to question the medical basis of Fareeha's claim, but it did seem to help her soreness.

And then Ana caught up with them. "Oh, Mr. McCree," the captain said, "Angela reminds me; you haven't been formally introduced to my daughter. I guess I have to schedule a little get-together so you formally meet each other."

Angela wondered if Ana was making fun of her.

Jesse chuckled. "I guess I haven't. I'm free after lunches, if'n you are too." 

"How's next tuesday work for you?" Ana said. "I need to work out some of my sweeties education situation these next few days."

"Sweet. So how formal do I gotta be for this little soiree?" Jesse asked. 

"Well, last time, Fareeha wore her best dress but Angela only wore her sweater, jeans and lab-coat. So I suppose she thinks herself above her own standards." 

Angela blushed. "I- I didn't mean 'formal' as in 'formal attire'-"

"How's a vest and overcoat work out?" Jesse asked. "I think I also have a top-hat somewhere." 

"That should suffice. Set the new high bar for these introductions." 

"Heheh, well, I wouldn't want to dissapoint." Jeese tipped his hat.

 

They ate a bit more, and Ana talked to Jesse about some sort of mission.

"Mrrrh!" Angela moaned, at some point. Fareeha had moved on to her neck, and Angela hadn't realized how much her neck hurt until that moment.

"You seem to have a lot of tension in your neck," the child said, "Do you read a lot?" 

Angela's mind wandered to the stack of medical journals she was behind on. "I guess you could say that."

Fareeha finished, then. "Bad reading posture can hurt your neck. It's also important to stay hydrated, so your muscles don't hurt."  

"Oh, speaking of which," Angela said, "since you're up, could you refill my water cup, please?"

"Yes ma'am!" Fareeha smiled and grabbed Angela's water cup. 

After Fareeha bolted away, Ana narrowed her eyes at Angela and grinned. "Making a servant out of my daughter, huh? Ziegler, you rascal." 

"I- no! She- she offered-"

"I wonder what your punishment for this infraction should be~" 

"No! I'm sorry!" Angela begged, "Please don't make me do any more exercise." 

Jesse stoped trying to contain his laughter. Angela ignored him. 

Ana chuckled. "Very well. I thought your health might thank me, later on in years, but since you asked, I shall be more creative with the punishments."

Angela waited, with dread. 

Ana frowned. "Can't think of anything right now, but don't worry, good doctor." She smiled, wickedly, "I'll surprise you." 

"I look forward to it," Angela said. Then her eyes widened and she brought her arms up to wave the air; they didn't hurt to move as much. "Not- not because I'm a masochist or anything- I'd just prefer not to be on your bad side anymore-" 

Ana didn't say anything.

"Not that there's anything wrong with being a masochist, or that there aren't people who upset you with their actions." 

Ana blinked.

"And I'm not trying to diminish any offense I've caused you, or to imply that I didn't upset you; you can feel how you want." Angela tried to smile. "I just want to redeem myself to you and - I'll stop talking now."

Angela let her arms flop down by her side. She sunk into her seat.  

Jesse let out one more great cackle and calmed down. 

"Oh Dr. Ziegler," Ana said, after a few mortifying seconds of silence. She chuckled. "Always with the jokes." 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I could say that I have the next chapter planned out and some free time now, so it should be up soon, but I'll probably find a way to procrastinate on it.


	3. Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fareeha lets herself relax around Angela.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guarantee no expertise in medicine, international peacekeeping organizations, children, poker, gummi bears, or dodgeball.
> 
> I especially don't know anything about Overwatch history. I'm assuming the Crusaders were an independent military organization that partnered with Overwatch, but I haven't followed any developer's twitter or gone to any Q&A panels at cons or anything, so Idk.

It was another typical morning at the Overwatch base. Angela was in the lounge. helping herself to her third cup of coffee in celebration of finishing the vaccination procedures for the new strain of Hanta virus. 

And then the door to the hangar slammed open and the largest man on base stumbled in, bawling his eyes out. "Doctor! Doctor!" cried Reinhardt. He was in his crusader armor, and it was dented and covered in blood and oil. "Come quickly, to the medbay! We've got wounded!" 

And two other crusaders wheeled in a fourth, on a stretcher, clutching a bloody side gash and moaning.

Angela downed the rest of her coffee and threw it at the nearest bin. (She missed, but that wasn't important.) She stood up and hid her giddyness and pretended to sigh as she accompanied the stretcher to the medbay.

Sadly, the sudden need for medical care was also typical for a morning at the Overwatch base. 

 

 

 

 

Cognitively, Angela knew that planning logistics, training field medics, and developing vaccination procedures was the most helpful thing she did, in terms of total lives saved, and she was happy with that. But viscerally, she missed actually performing surgery; being elbows deep in some poor sod's viscera and knowing that it was by her own hands that she was wrenching someone back from the edge of death, her own will by which she game life to the dying. 

But, that wasn't proper thinking for the head of medicine at Overwatch, 

"You're going to be okay, my friend," Reinhardt said. He put a guantlet-wreathed hand at the edge of the stretcher, right before the patient and the associated medical personel entered the bystander-free zone. 

 

 

 

 

 

After another successful operation, Angela threw her gloves into the biologic waste bin and strolled out of the room, triumphantly.

For some reason, Strike Commander Reyes was outside the operating room, leaning against the wall, one knee bent and arms folded.  "Good job in there, I hear," he said. He nodded solemly.

Angela put on her professional face, though she was still smiling on the inside.

"Commander," Angela nodded. She turned away, to take the long way back to the lounge.

Reyes, however, seemed to have other ideas. He followed her, two steps behind and a meter to the side, his hands behind his head. "I'm surprised your hands are steady enough to do surgery. I usually tweak out by my second cup." He flexed his hands. "At close range, though, it doesn't matter, except I have hair triggers   

 Ugh, guns. Angela didnt hide her distaste, nor did she turn to the soldier when she spoke.  "I don't tweak out until my seventh cup, usually," Angela explained. "I usually get there around mid-afternoon, when I start filling out logistics paperwork for our frontier hospitals and answering emails and such. Don't need steady hands to type."

"Also, eating food and just waiting a moment can steady your hands if you're caffinated." Angela finished lecturing. 

Reyes nodded. "I'll remember that." 

Angela noticed that Reyes was still following her. She took a breath and sighed, for his benefit. "Isn't there anything you should be doing?" She said, still not turning to the person she was talking to. 

"The strike force just got back from a mission, so not right now, no." 

"No I meant, like, in general." Angela smirked. "I saved a life. Directly. Third one this week."  

"Certainly impressive. I can end lives faster than three a week, though." 

"Well, it's less quantifiable in the short term, but I've also established two frontier hospitals and rewrote the vaccination routines for our Brazil clinic this last week. You do anything that important?

"Recently," and Reyes smiled, insufferably, "I've been helping tutor Fareeha in her studies." 

" _Gopfertammi._ " Angela smushed her mouth together and snapped her fingers, "Fine, you win. "

 

 

 

 

 

In the patient waiting area, which is where non-medical personnel were _supposed_ to be waiting, Reyes, Reinhardt was waiting, out of his armor and with a few bandages on the visible parts of his face and arms and his magnificent blond tressess flowing down his shoulders. 

"Frou doctor, you saved my comrade," Reinhardt bowed. 

"Was here ever any doubt?" Angela said. Logically, there was always the chance of human error, but Angela had a flawless record so far. 

"I owe you one for this, frou Doctor," the crusader continued. 

"You owe me one for doing my job?" Angela deadpanned. She frowned, then she shrugged. "Well, if you did yours-" Angela pointed her thumb behind her, towards the medbay, "maybe I'd be out of work."

Reinhardt's smile vanished, apparently having been transferred to Reyes. 

"Crusader Fisher received those injuries by bodily shielding a refugee caravan from omnic fire."

Angela choked back an embarrassed grimace. "I- ok, sorry, my mistake for assuming the worst," she put her hands up, "But the crusaders have a reputation for recklessness." 

"You mean for _Honor!_  " Reinhardt flexed. "And _Glory!"_  

Reyes smirked, insufferably. "You don't seem to believe in our cause, do you, Angela?"

"That's Dr. Ziegler to you, Strike-Commander Reyes. : 

Reyes saluted (possibly sarcastically). "Dr. Zeigler. Soldiers protect those that do not have the resources to expend protecting themselves." 

"And also the economic interests of their employers. But either way, that's not why _you_ signed up." 

"To be fair, in a capitalist society, placing an economic basis on the value of life ensures that even the most greedy, unsavory people have vested interests in human welfare." 

"But by reducing human life to a monetary value as the default, it encourages otherwise noble people to treat life as just a series of numbers."

"Would you rather everyone be greedy but care for life as a side effect of the relentless pursuit of profit, or for some people to be good but more people are evil because there's no incentive to value life?" 

"False dichotomy. There's better systems than both, and valuing human life does not preclude making safeguards to accommodate more unscrupulous actors." 

"In the Renaissance era," Reyes gestured towards Reinhardt, "in the areas of merchant states rather than kingdoms- battles were fought with mercenary companies. They were in it to make money, and since massive troop losses were expensive, they waged wars of tactics and positioning, rather than trying to win by killing more soldiers than they lost. It wasn't until countries started drafting their citizens and soldier's lives were nationalized that wars with truly massive casualties took place." 

"See, that's why Overwatch is supplied by individual countries that can opt out if the - wait," Angela said. Dang, she had been so focused on contradicting everything Reyes said that he managed to get her to say something good about the organization. Angela wondered if Reyes was clever enough to have done that deliberately."

Reyes laughed. "Well, looks like you actually  _do_ appreciate our efforts, Dr. Zeigler. Thanks."

"I salute you." Reinhardt did so.

Angela waved the air. "As far as well-implemented international organizations go, Overwatch isn't the worst. It doesn't mean it's free of flaws, or that its very existence is justified.

Reyes raised an eyebrow. "No?"

Angela pontificated. "The existence of a standing army invites violent solution, especially in cases where violence would just make things worse. The fact that Overwatch exists mean more people are trying to solve problems with an 'impartial' international peacekeeping strike force, rather than in less destructive ways." 

"So you're saying that as soon as this omnic crisis is over, you'll petition for the organization to be disbanded," Reyes said. It didn't sound like a question. 

And that was it again; the Omnic Crisis, the most compelling reason for Overwatch to exist. Angela shifted directions. "It's a hard line to cross, because Overwatch is already getting involved in human disputes completely disparate from the Omnic Crisis." 

Reyes nodded. "Yeah, I've noticed that." 

Angela nodded. "I mean, I worry that Overwatch is prolonging the Omnic Crisis in order to gather more power." 

Reyes laughed. "Well, I can't speak for the board of directors, but if the rank and file got wind of that, we wouldn't stand for it."

Reinhart saluted. "The Crusaders would want no part of that, if it were true."

"This conversation took a dark turn here, Dr. Zeigler," Reyes said. 

"Oh!- I, I guess," Angela said. Honestly, she was ready to debate Reinhardt on the purpose of his mercenary organization, but he was a lot nicer than Reyes, so Angela was a little more hesitant. But that was how the less-than-noble organizations got more and more corrupt. 

Reinhardt took another bow. "Thank you again, Frou Doctor. if there's ever anything I can assist you with, don't hesitate to let me know." 

"Well, actually, there was one thing." Angela said. She tried to look composed. "Do you have any gummi bears?"

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Angela had noticed that, even through Fareeha had opened up a bit more, she was a lot, lot more energetic and playful around other people- particularly, those in the Overwatch program- which meant that Angela still had a ways to go.

Even though Angela had gotten that first conversation with Fareeha, apparently, she still intimidated the child. It was understandable; Angela was very imposing, and her credentials and intellect and charisma certainly would prevent a timid girl from being relaxed. And if she was going to philosophically mentor the child, as per Ana's request, Angela was going to have to get to know Fareeha on a more informal level. (Angela was, of course, always approachable.) 

"So you're gonna give her candy?" Jesse asked, at lunch, after Angela explained her plan. 

"Yes. Kids love candy." Angela stabbed a forkful of lettuce and lifted it in front of her face. 

"Are you also going to buy a white van?" 

"No, I take the shuttle to work, actually," Angela said. She took a bite of her salad; raw, because she didn't need to slather it in dressing like a wimp. "And fuel prices are up, so it's less efficient to own a vehicle than to commute. Besides, I can catch up on medical reading in the shuttle; can't do that while driving. That's ridiculously unsafe. Distracted driving is a major killer." 

Angela leaned back and waved a panorama in front of her. "Besides, once all my debts repaid and the doctor money starts flowing in, I want to get, like, a real fancy Italian car, all ivory white with gold trim and rims and stuff. So I don't want to burn money on a car I don't need and won't like, right now." 

Jesse tried to smirk. "Do you know anything about cars?" 

"No, not yet." Angela explained, "But I figure I'll have time to learn how to drive before I can afford that thing, anyway. 

"Sure, you seem pretty busy," Jesse said. He smirked. "But not too busy to play with the captain's daughter." 

"Hey, Ana personally asked me to, uh," Angela scratched her ear, "Life coach her something?"

"You're a civilian, though. You're not obligated to obey Commander Amari." 

"Yeah, but-" 

"-She's just, super-hot, and you can't say no?" Jesse flashed a smirk. 

" _No~_ ," Angela felt her cheeks redden. She threw a cherry tomato at the cowboy. Jesse laughed and dodged. "I- I mean, you're not wrong on the first part, necessarily, but I am self-assured enough that I don't  _have_ to do anything a pretty woman tells me. I'm doing this because I want to." 

Jesse chuckled. "Well, a little birdie told me that Fareeha's hanging out in the armory this afternoon." 

" _Wonderbar!_ It just so happens, I'm almost done with my work for today," Angela said. She waved the air, idly, "Right after I finish I'll see how she's doing." 

"Well, have fun. And when it backfires horribly, make sure you tell me. It'd be good for a laugh."  

 Angela stuck her tongue out at her best friend, before she left for her office. 

 

 

 

 

After half an hour, a lot of really fast typing and a short walk, Angela made it to the armory, ready to tell Fareeha that she'd like to hang out, but not in, like, a desperate way or anything. 

Angela slammed open the door, "Hello, Fareeha-"

She saw that Fareeha was playing with a orange foam ball, and that Reyes and Lindholm were there too, working on some sort of machinery. Angela coughed. "Reyes, Lindholm. What are you working on?"

"Turrets," Lindholm said. He adjusted some metallic contraption.

"Turrets," said Reyes. He tossed a foam ball up in the air.

Angela eyed Reyes, and how he was obviously just sitting around throwing a ball around. "Yeah?"

"Tha foam balls are to test the tracking," Lindholm explained. "They'll shoot real bullets in the field, but we wouldn't want that in the lab, right? Haha!"

"And they're also great for playing dodge-ball," Reyes said. He threw one at Fareeha. She caught it and giggled. 

"However," Fareeha said. She placed the ball in a box with a bunch of similar balls. "We shouldn't use Overwatch property for such juvenile things. Especially while Torbjörn's working." 

But- Reyes looked at Fareeha, and then at Angela, and then he smiled, insufferably. 

"Oh, I getcha. Doc's a narc." 

"Hey," Angela puffed out her left cheek. "I'm not a narc! I like fun things, just like you guys." 

"Sure thing, narc," Reyes smirked.  

Angela smushed her mouth together. "I'm far to young to be a narc."

"You're far too young to be a doctor, too, I'd say," Reyes said. 

"Umm," Fareeha said, interrupting Angela before the teenager could think of something scathing in reply, "Why don't we play an adult game, instead." 

Angela coughed. Reyes laughed, though, "You mean like, 'ensure your children have the correct vaccinations', 'pretend to like your boss', or 'shop for the best deal on a mortgage'?" 

"No, I was thinking, like, poker," said Fareeha.

"Oh!" Angela dug through her bag. "Well, I just so happen to have some gummi bears on me, to use for chips, if you'd like." 

Reyes smirked. He turned to Fareeha. "Look out, the narc's trying to get us to gamble." 

"I'm not a narc!" Angela pouted. 

"Sure thing, Roman Emperor Narcus Aurelius," Reyes said. 

Fareeha put her hands to her mouth, unsuccessfully covering her snicker. 

Angela coughed, "But yeah, I'm down with poker, if you want."

"Sounds good," Reyes leaned over to the engineer. "Hey Torby! You want in?"

Lindholm turned back to his turret, "Nah, actually, I'm probably ready to go home, now, actually. The wife's making pork roast tonight, and I've been looking forward to it all day."

Angela choked on her spit. Lindholm was married?

Fareeha and Reyes waved him goodbye, and they started setting up the game.

 

 

They pulled out a folding table and some chairs and Fareeha started shuffling a deck of cards. She was really good at it. Reyes pulled out his own bag of Gummi bears. Annoyingly, he managed to give Fareeha a handful for her pot right before Angela was about to offer.

Angela thought it'd be a good chance to argue for pacifism, though the fact that Reyes was there meant that she was probably in for a more in depth argument.

Idly, Angela also wondered if this was a good chance to just satisfy her curiosity, like, to get to know Fareeha better, or maybe to ask if she knew which member was her father (but if she didn't, that might lead to a lot more awkward situation, so she'd have to be really subtle about it

"Can I eat my chips?" Fareeha asked.

Angela widened the hole in her gummi bear bag and offered the sweets to Fareeha. "Here," said Angela, "Have some of mine."

Fareeha made eye contact briefly and nervously pulled a single Gummi bear out from the pack. She ate it, slowly. "Thank you, Dr. Zeigler."

Angela put the bag between her and the child. "Help yourself, whenever." 

Fareeha nervously glanced at the open candy bag through the first round. Reyes won that one, with two jacks.

Fareeha shuffled the cards again. Suddenly, there was a 'bang' from somewhere in the armory.

Angela turned her head for a moment. It didn't look like it was anything.

When she turned back, her Gummi bear bag was empty. Angela shot an unamused look at Fareeha.

"You don't need to be nervous about liking candy," Angela said. "You didn't need to distract me, Fareeha."

"Actually, it was me, doc," Reyes said, "I'm the one that ate all the Gummi bears."

Fareeha covered her face with her hands and tried not to chuckle. Angela leaned to the side, and saw that her Gummi bears were now in Fareeha's lap.

Angela sighed. "Oh no, whatever will I do," she said. But, that was the point of the candy, she figured, so mission proceeding as planned, she guessed.

 

 

 

Predictably, after Fareeha's sugar rush kicked in, she started opening up more. She seemed less withdrawn around Angela, and she talked more openly, and she was more affectionate. So, mission accomplished. 

Also, in a manner that Angela should have predicted, Fareeha started bouncing off the walls. She started throwing balls at Reyes during the third round, and had completely abandoned the cards by the fifth.

"Haha!" Fareeha grabbed one of the foam practice projectiles and lobbed it at Reyes. "for Justice!" 

Reyes dodged. He picked up a ball and thew it at Fareeha, hitting her arm. "In that case, you can just call me El Muerto."

"You can't stop justice!"

Reyes scooped up an armful of the projectiles and started tossing them at the child. "Challenge accepted."

Fareeha squealed with delight and redoubled her efforts.

It reminded Angela of snowball fighting. She was above such things. Obviously. She had never partaken in any throughout med school, or even before that not since, well, not since her parents had still been alive..... 

Fareeha jumped at her feet. "Angela, Angela, play with us!" She was much less guarded now, so, mission accomplished she guessed?

Angela smushed her mouth together. She felt conflicted. "I- I don't know..."

"C'mon!" Fareeha smirked, evilly, in a way that reminded Angela of Reyes. "What, are you chicken?"

Reyes laughed. "Bok Bok bok!" 

"Bok bok!" Fareeha repeated.

Angela felt her cheeks heat up. She turned to the adult man pretending to be a chicken. "What are you, 12?" 

"Yes!" Fareeha said. 

"Not _you_ ," Angela said, but before she could say something else, Fareeha bounced a foam ball off her head.

"Ahahahaha!" Fareeha said. 

Angela grit her teeth and picked up the ball. "Oh yeah?" She said. She threw the ball at Fareeha's receding form, and missed. 

 "Missed me, missed me, now you gotta- ah!" Fareeha coughed, "You gotta try again, or you'll have to face the shame of failure!"

And Angela joined the game then. It was not the least fun thing she'd ever done.

 

 

 

Eventually, there was a knock at the door. Ana appeared. 

Angela dropped her projectiles and stood up straight. "C-captain Amari! Hello! We- we were just throwing things at your daughter-"

Ana blinked.

"I-I mean-" Angela sweated, "We were playing a game, which involved hitting each other with balls- like, soft balls, so it doesn't hurt-"

Reyes managed to save her then, annoyingly. "Hey Ana. How'd your lesson go with Ms. Lacoix?" Reyes said. 

Angela surveyed her surroundings, and she saw that Fareeha stopped smiling. She snuck away. 

"Frito and I were just playing around a bit," said Reyes. He smirked and waved at Angela. "The doc's surprisingly vicious."

Angela blushed. "I- I mean, it was a game, yes?"

"So where's my darling now?" Ana said. 

Angela looked around, but didn't see anyone. "Uhhhhh-"

"Bwahahahahaha!" Fareeha said, suddenly. Tirned out, she was on top of one of the weapon shelves, towering above them all, and that was really, really unsafe

Angela foughed and tried to sound adult. "You really shouldn't be up ther-"

Fareeha dumped a whole crate of balls onto the three of them.  "JUSTICE RAINS FROM ABOVE! 

"Aahhhhh!" Angela shrieked and tried to shield herself. She fell to the ground, in a sea of orange foam projectiles.

 Reyes laughed. Ana picked up an armful of the projectiles and started chasing her daughter around the room. "Come back here, you brat!" 

Fareeha managed two laps around the room before her mother pelted her in the back. They threw balls at each other frantically. 

And soon after, Fareeha slumped, comically, onto one of the crates. 

Ana picked up her daugher, cradling her head in her elbow. Ans sung, softly, something in arabic. Fareeha nesled in her mother's arms. 

"I think Justice needs to take a little nap," Ana said.

"Nooo~" Fareeha mumbled, "I'm not <yawn>, sleepy....." 

"Hush, my habibti. Mummy's got you." 

Ana hummed the rest of the song, and Fareeha fell asleep.

Capt. Amari then turned to Reyes and Angela. "Thank you both for taking care of her," Ana said. 

Reyes saluted. "Any time, Ma'am." 

Angela blinked and flaied, just a bit, and after a moment, she tried to emulate Reyes' salute. "Y-yeah, any time," she said. 

 

 

 


	4. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angela tells Fareeha a story.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guarantee no expertise on being cool, gross stories, surgery, consoling crying people, philosophy, or Overwatch lore. 
> 
> A little morbid and depressing, this chapter. Promise it'll be fluff in the next few.

At some point in the last few weeks, Reyes had staked out a section of the armory as some sort of play area for himself and Fareeha. Mostly for him, probably.

Angela was a little annoyed at that, and it was only because the armory was supposed to be for combat personnel only, and not because Fareeha seemed to really enjoy it. LIke, she was here very often- right now even. 

And now, Reyes was showing Fareeha his animal skeleton collection again. Apparently he acquired a new one on his last outing, and Fareeha was absolutely enthralled with it.  

"See, the bill only has bones in the corners, so the insides all hollow. If it still had skin, it'd sound like a drum." 

"Groooossss!" Fareeha said, between her laughs.

That was the last straw. Angela stepped into the room, then she cleared her thoat to make herself known.  

Fareeha looked simultaneously happy and nervous. "Hi Angela!" She waved. 

"Oh hello, Dr. Ziegler," said Reyes. 

"If you really want to know something gross," Angela said. She knelt down besides the two. "I'll tell you about my first heart transplant- well, not  _my_ first heart transplant, I was just a surgical aide then, my mentor was doing the operation. 

"So we put the patient under and every thing was going perfectly; the bypass machine got hooked up fine, the incision was perfect, and we had just pulled out the original heart."

"And then I handed the doctor the transplant heart, straight out of the perfusing chamber, and-"

Angela choked back a laugh. "And he  _dropped_ it. On the ground. Blood splattered _everywhere._ One of the nurses even got some in his eye.  

Angela waited for a response. Fareeha was frozen. Reyes looked slightly amused and sort of impresed, but that wasn't important. "So then what happend?" Reyes asked. 

Angela pontificated. "Well, the only thing we could do. We put the patient's original heart back in, stitched the chest cavity back together, and rescheduled for a later date."

 Reyes nodded. 

Fareeha blinked.

And then her mouth wobbled like a malfunctioning EKG and her eyes widened into soggy dinner plates-

And then she burst out in tears. 

"Waaahhhhhhhhhh!" Fareeha cried, "Waaaaahhhhhhhhh! 

Reyes immediately jumped back and held his arms up in front of him, because aparently every Overwatch officer was just terrible at consoling distraught little girls.

So Angela swooped in- she picked Fareeha up (with only a little trouble; maybe those push-ups helped a little) and pulled the crying child into her lap and bounced her knee as best she could. "Oh, no- , Fareeha, that wasn't - that wasn't supposed to scare you- 

"Waaahhhhhhhhh!" 

"Ah- well, if it makes you feel better, the patient survived." For three months. " 

"Waaaaaaahhhhhh!" 

"And there was actually a lot less blood than I made it seem." That was technically true. She hadn't gotten 

"Waaahhhhh!" 

Well, if she was going to lie, she might as well try an  _effective_ lie. 

"And- actually, I made up the whole story to try to impress you." Angela made a smile.

"Waahhh?"

"Actually, nobody ever dies. Death isn't real; everyone's just sleeping, really hard. In their skeletons." 

And Fareeha's cry lowerd to a few chest-heaving sobs and some shudders. 

And then Fareeha looked up, and she squeaked slightly, and then leaned into Angela's side. she seemed hesitant to return the hug. 

"Is- is that really what happens?" Fareeha whispered. She wiped her eye with her wrist. "People die because doctors make mistakes like that?"

"Oh, not buying the 'nobody's every died' bit, huh?"

Fareeha leaned out of the hug and blinked.

Angela coughed. "Well, other doctors, maybe, but i've got a perfect track record," Angela smiled. Sure, part of that was because she was young, but it was true. 

Fareeha looked away. "I thought I could trust doctors when I get sick," she said, despondently.

"You can! But you have to realize, doctors are only human- or omnic, if you think they count- Though if it makes you feel better, feel free to come to me, if you ever get sick."

Fareeha brightened up at that. She nodded, three times, exuberantly. "I will!" 

"And-" Angela glanced at Reyes and had a flicker of concern, but he was a high ranking commander, so he'd probably know about it already, she figured. 

Angela turned back to the child in her arms. "Actually, I've got a personal progject I've been working on, most of my life. It's actually the reason I got hired by overwatch hired me- and it's a little top secret, but you're trustworthy, right?"

Fareeha nodded, silently, expectantly. Her deep brown eyes were wide (and a little wet) as she started at Angela, completely enraptured. Angela coughed and broke eye contact for a moment. 

"It's a nanobiotic method of holistic post-necrosis cellular rejuvenation across the whole body." 

Fareeha blinked. 

"It's not quite but similar enough that you can describe it as," Angela sighed, "Bringing people back from the dead. Medically." 

Fareeha blinked again. "Wait, really?" Reyes said something similar, but he didn't matter. 

Angela smiled. "Really really."

"That's so cool!"

"That's blasphemy," Reyes said, but he seemed impressed anyway.  

"Quiet, you," Angela waved the air in from of Reyes's face. She cleared her throat and turned to the girl in her arms. "But if you ever get scared of getting sick or dying, just know that, someday soon, hopefully, you should never have to worry about that again. You'll never need to - need to worry about saying goodbye." 

Angela regained her composure before she showed any weakness. Fareeha seemed impressed by her last speech. 

 

 

 

 

Fareeha climbed out of her lap and helped Reyes put away his skeletons.  

 Afterwards, before Fareeha needed to find Reinhardt for her history tutoring, she walked up to Angela and put her hands behind her back and rocked back and forth and smiled, sheepishly, as she thanked her for comforting her. It was very cute. Angela waved her goodbye, before decided that she probably had work to get back to as well.

In the hallway, Angela bumped into Reyes, leaning against the wall, one knee bend, his arms folded. Angela knew he was fishing for her to ask how he got out ahead of her, so she pointedly did not ask how he managed that. 

"Reyes," Angela said. she nodded. 

"Thank you for that, Dr. Zeigler," Reyes said. He didn't manage eye contact. "I suppose comfort isn't one of my talents, so I appreciate that, for Frito's sake." 

Angela didn't quite know how to take that compliment. "I .... guess you can call me Angela. Thank you." 

"My name's Gabriel," said Reyes. 

Angela wasn't actually sure she had known that. Well, good to know, she guessed. 

"And personally," Gabriel continued, managing eye contact and a smile, now, "I'm rather impressed. You didn't seem like the type whose ever been splattered with blood, but now that I think of it, that was a silly assumption of me to make." He smirked a toothy smirk. "Guess we've had that in common, huh?" 

Angela frowned. "Uh, no, we do _not_ have that in common, because the only people I've watched die are those I've failed to save, while  _your_ deaths are the ones you've caused." Angela held up a hand. "Or- or your comrades who've died. Sorry if- if that's been a majority of them." 

Gabriel waved the air. "Thank you for your concern. But what you're saying is, you've only been splattered with the blood of the innocent."

Angela scrunched her mouth to the side. "Well, I don't limit myself to only treating the innocent. I'll save anyone, as best I can." 

"Really? Anyone?" 

"That's what I said." 

"You don't think some people deserve to die?"

"What? No!" Angela stepped back. "How can you say that? " 

"Well, my whole job is predicated around that idea...." 

"I thought soldiers were supposed to protect those without the resources to protect themselves," Angela said.

"Ha! And the economic interests of their employers. But it usually ends up as sitting behind a blown-out bunker, trying to make the other guys die before you do." 

Angela furrowed her brow. "And you think these other guys deserve to die?

"Well, on the battlefield, if its a choice of either my friends dying or the opposing combatants dying, I'll chose the guys on the other side. I've seen too many of my friends die to be persuaded otherwise." 

"I've-" Angela broke eye contact. "I've watched a lot of people die, too. "Angela said. "it really- sucks." 

"It does."

When Angela refreshed her composure, she saw Reyes shoot her a sympathetic look. It was so annoying.

"Well, I can tell you, eventually, you learn to make it not affect you unless you let it." 

Reyes laughed. "Wait, _your're_ trying to give me coping advice? You mean you really think you've seen more death than me?"

"Uh, hello? I'm a doctor?" Angela waved her hand.  "I literally live in a building where people go to die, unless we figure out how to help them. "

"And  _I_  literally live in a warzone. Staring down bullets."

"At least it's quick half the time. Half of surviving patients end up worse for wear, their bodies and dignities withered away before we manage to stop the disease." 

"Oh, so we're going beyond just death into general horribleness now?" Reyes folded his arms. "Well, I think I win because the half of my coworkers go insane."  

"Half of _my_ coworkers end up committing suicide."

Reyes blinked. "Shit, Ziegler. That's awful." 

"You don't need to tell me it's awful." 

Reyes looked at the wall. Angela's temper died down and she found herself similarly embarrassed. 

"So," Reyes ventured, "Overwatch hired you to bring back the dead, huh?"

"I would phrase it as eradicating the ultimate disease, but yes, that is technically accurate." Like, a degenerative disease. Thought death did seem, sometimes, to be infectious. 

"And it doesn't bother you that it's most likely going to be used to make us super-soldiers better at killing people?" 

Angela looked into the distance. "I was aware of that when I first signed on, yes. But a lot of technological advances were originally pioneered by the military before being used Overwatch is one of the most effective means for securing funding and personnel for the project, and a lot of talented researchers end up working here, so it's a good avenue to getting personnel for the research endeavor too."

Gabriel raised an eyebrow and smirked. "So you'll take our money but you don't agree with our cause?" 

"Yes. Isn't that how it works? I think, like 85% of investment bankers start out as idealistic trying to bring the system down from within." 

Reyes laughed. Until she caught herself, Angela was rather happy at that. 

"It's an admirable endeavor, but I think mortality is something you just have to accept," Reyes said.

"Uh, no I don't."  Angela pontificated. "We have the technology so that we don't need to just accept it."

"Reversing death won't get rid of all suffering," Reyes said. 

"Obviously no, but death is the source of so much suffering, getting rid of it will only improve the world." 

"But the fear of death is what motivates people towards greatness."

"Then maybe people should drink more caffeine." Angela mentally made a note to grab her fourth cup for the day, since it was mid-afternoon. 

 Reyes coughed. Apparently he was conceding that point. "The desire to cure death comes from a fear of the unknown."

"You say that like it's a bad thing. I'd say the fear of death is entirely justified." 

Reyes smirked. "Are you afraid of dying, Zeiger?" 

"I am terrified of death, " Angela confessed. "Death is the ultimate end. That all someone is, all they could have been, is over. You'll never get to see them smile, or hear them laugh, or feel them hold you, ever again."

"But we live on in the memories of those who love us-" 

"Well, that's even worse, because your memories die with you!" Angela's voice cracked. "Imagine, if  _you_ died, and everyone who remembers you died- then you'd cease to be. All of you. All your little animal skeletons and your stories about killing people- and I'm sure there's something positive to say about even  _you-"_

Reyes smirked. "You can ask Fareeha if you want to hear some positive things about me."

That annoyed Angela more than anything. "Well, then, what happens if  _she_ dies too? And there's nobody to remember your silly skeleton games so they might as well have never happened in the first place."

The smirk on Gabriel's face vanished. Angela fell a well of victory in her chest. 

"You see?" Angela said. "You can't tell me that isn't horrible. You can't tell me _death_ isn't horrible." 

Angela realized she was yelling. She also realized she was starting to cry. However, luckily, Reyes was staring off into the distance, looking thoughtful, so Angela had a moment to wipe her eyes before he saw anything. 

"Ok. Sure. I'll admit it's horrible." Reyes said. "But that doesn't change the fact that I've made peace with my inevitable, potentially very soon, death, which possibly may involve a lot of bullets and/or an explosion or two." He smiled, but it was a little hollow.

Angela figured she could give him the courtesy of returning the hollow smile. "Oh, you talk big, but I guarantee that when the time comes for you to stare into the abyss, you'll do anything to live," Angela said. 

"Guess we'll see about that." His smile softened. "But before you perfect your tech, you want to be one of the people in whose memories I live on, if my body doesn't?"

Angela stifled a snort. "How about I'll remember how I was able to get Fareeha to stop crying when you couldn't."

"And I'll remember that it was you who made her cry in the first place." 

Angela smushed her mouth together and snapped her fingers. "Gopfertammi. Fine, you win." 

 

 

 

 

 

OMAKE: 

 

 

Ana Amari kicked down the door into the armory, her rifle in her hands. She did something with the gun that made an intimidating metallic sound and then pointed the gun at Reyes, (Which, Angela thought, was probably a massive safety violation)

"I heard my habibti crying. Any last words, Gabe?" 

Reyes closed his eyes and held his arms out, welcoming his impending death. "I always knew this day would come." 

"Ana- stop-" Angela stood up and, her palms out, approached the captain. "It- it was me, actually. I'm the one that made Fareeha cry." 

Ana blinked.

Then she pointed her gun at the teenager, and Angela's hands immediately shot up above her head. "Ana- what-" 

"Ziegler, you rascal. After I entrusted you to guide my daughter? The remuneration for such betrayal can only be death." She braced the butt of her gun against her shoulder and looked down the scope, at the doctor. "So same question; any last words?" 

 

 

-

_RIP_

_ANGELA ZIEGLER_

_2028-2045_

_"C'mon, you're not really going to-"_

 

 

Angela rolled her eyes at the piece of rock Gabriel was showing her and the other people currently in the breakroom. "So you make fake tombstones too?" Angela asked.

"Nah," Gabriel said, "Most of the ones I make are real."

 


	5. Jesse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jesse makes a friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guarantee no expertise in nor even basic correct knowledge of LGBT festivals, shooting ranges, Overwatch Canon, or how to make friends.

Today was the day that Jesse was supposed to 'formally' meet Fareeha. They'd chatted a few times before, because Ana was a fixture at the base and Jesse literally lived here, since he had been 'volunteered' as an operative. And it looked like Fareeha didn't go to public school, since he'd seen Morrison and Reyes and, recently, Angela tutor her. 

But Jesse knew the importance of ceremony,, so he put on his best vest and hat and waited in the cafeteria for Ana to escort her daughter into the room.

And when Ana arrived, with Fareeha in tow, Jesse stood up and removed his hat. Fareeha blinked, her face passive. And then Ana caught Reinhardt aways away and went to go chat him up. 

And when they were alone, Fareeha glared at him, with cold eyes. "Mcree," she said. 

Jesse made a smile. It was a little unnerving, Fareeha's reaction. He wasn't _that_  offputting, right? And, no offense to the commander, but Reyes was like 10 times creepier than anyone else on the base, and Fareeha seem to hang out with him fine. 

"Well, I guess you know my name." He held out his right hand. "I'm Jesse Mcree." 

Fareeha lightly clasped Jesse's hand in her own, and shook it slightly up and down, twice, before letting go. 

Jesse refreshed his smile. "So, uh, how are you?" 

"Fine," said Fareeha. Her eyes narrowed even more. "So tell me; What are your intentions regarding Dr. Angela Ziegler?" asked the child, accusingly. 

"We're friends," Jesse said. He considered her his best friend, actually, but he . Besides, Angela probably had, like, way more interesting friends than him. He wasn't even a citizen here and Angela had been scouted by the Overwatch initiative, like, three years ago, so even thought she hadn't been on base since she'd finished her residency she 

Fareeha crossed her arms and leaned back on her right foot. "Yeah? How'd you meet? 

Jeese pushed down on his hat, slightly, subconsciously. "Well, actually, we _first_ met eight months ago at a pride celebration in town. I was doing something stupid, and she looked at me and frowned and shook her head, disapprovingly." 

Fareeha's expression softened, for the first time. She listened intently.

Jesse continued his story. "And then the following week, when she showed up here to work on base, she recognized me, and we started hanging out at lunch." 

Fareeha pontificated. "So, you're, bi or something?" 

"Nah, just gay."   

"Oh, okay." Fareeha looked a little less inexplicably cross, and a little more inscrutable. She looked at the wall. "How was pride?"

"Well, I didn't do the parade, but the celebration was really fun. Food was overpriced, and I forgot sunscreen for the first like 2 hours but there was a concert, and there were a lot of booths giving away free stuff." 

Fareeha scrunched her mouth, and her voice was a little quieter. "I've wanted to go for a couple years, but I don't know what my mom would say." 

Jesse blinked. He parsed the implications of Fareeha's statement.

"Oh. Huh. Really?" he said, and the tried to think of anything Ana had done or said that might have been a red flag. "She seemed like the type who'd be pretty supportive, as far as I could tell.  

Fareeha scrunched her mouth to the side. "It's different when you're family. 

Jesse nodded. "I get that. Well, I mean, I know how some things people are okay with, they might be weird about if its people they know. I, uh, never really had a family, so I can't quite relate to that part."

Fareeha made eye contact, then. "No? Well, you've come to the right place! Overwatch is like _my_ family. We got the weird uncle," she pointed to Reyes, sitting aways awya at hte offeicer's table, "The nice uncle," she pointed to Morrison, sitting across from Reyes, "The cool grampa who's the best at telling stories," She pointed to Reinhardt, who was in line for his second helping of pie.

"Oooh, see, I think from my point of view it's a little different. Except for Reinhardt; I definitely think of him as the cool grampy I've never had. I gotta say Torbjörn's the weird uncle." 

"Nah, he's cool if you get to know him...."

They discussed that, at length, until they were friends. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

A few days later, in the cafeteria, Jesse was approached by his newest friend. 

"Hello Mr. Mcree," said a young woman. She stood up straight and tried to look formal. "May I accompany you during lunch this day?" 

Jesse smiled. "Why certainly, Ms. Amari." He noticed something, "So, is that a Justice Rangers keychain?" 

Fareeha brightened up. "Oh, yeah! You watch that?"

"Religiously." 

And they started discussing the parts of the show they liked, and which characters they thought were the best.  

 

 

And, eventually, Jesse's best friend (though it might not be reciprocated) appeared, to sit diagonally across from him, right next to Fareeha. "Hello, you two! I did not know you vere friends!" 

"H-hey, Angela," said Fareeha, to her food. 

Jesse asked her how she was doing, and Angela started a whole spheal about the current state of gene therapy clinics in Numbani, and how Overwatch had to send representatives to , and how one of them was actually a front for an underground super-soldier lab that itself was trying to capitalize off an award from the Numbani defense department for improvements to front-line combat, 

See, the fact that the technology was out there , but , and she had to prepare testimonies so that the legal arm of Overwatch could properly decide how to use experimental technology 

Fareeha was completely enraptured. 

Eventually, "Oh, I'm sorry, I kind of rambled zere," 

Jesse waved the air. "Nothing as important as that." He figured he could wait until there was something more substantial to regale. Besides, Angela was just asking to be polite; if she asked twice, he'd mention something. 

"And vat about you, Fareeha? Anyzing interesting happen?" 

Fareeha pushed her hands  into her lap and looked at the ground. "N-not a lot, no." 

"Alright then- vell, in zat case, I'm afraid I ought to be going," Angela said. "Reports to rite, procedures to establish, ya?" 

The two people who liked to  take their time with lunch waved her farewell. 

And after they were alone, Jesse turned to the young woman sitting across from him. 

"So tell me, little miss," Jesse said He smirked. "What are  _your_ intentions regarding Dr. Angela Ziegler? 

Fareeha immediately blushed and puffed out her cheeks, just a bit. "Nothing! None of your business! Go away!" 

Jesse chuckled. "Young lady,  _you_ sat down here with  _me_. there's nothing stopping you from leaving whenever you want." 

"I- I'm sorry," she sputtered. She puffed out her cheek. "But. Um. About Angela...." 

Jesse suppressed a smirk. "Eh?" 

Fareeha titled her head down. "You won't tell her, will you?" 

"Tell you what, I won't," Jesse said, "And we can start a pool on how long it takes her to notice."

Fareeha looked amused. "Deal."

Jesse pulled out his notepad. "So, I'm putting my money on sometime between eight and nine weeks from now." 

Fareeha fumbled in her wallet and pulled out a five unit note. "I'll take 'never'."

And Jesse, because now that he thought about it he was pretty sure Fareeha would win that bet. 

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

And the next week, after they bumped into each other at lunch again and they discussed the latest episode of Justice Rangers, and the philosophical implications of the plot developments and the meta-analysis of fandom reactions around such. And that led to talking about their lives, and their desires for the future. 

And it culminated in Fareeha asking him to teach her how to shoot a gun. 

Jesse lowered his voice. "Well, I'm pretty sure Reyes would kill me, if I did that," Jesse said. 

 Fareeha put her fists on her hips and smirked, defiantly. " _I'm_ pretty sure my mom would kill me, so I win." She stuck her tongue out.

Jesse pushed his hat down on his head, slightly. "Well, can't argue with that." 

 

 

 

 

So they found a period of time when they both were free but people expected them to be somewhere, and they checked into the shooting range. There was like one other person there neither of them knew.  

And Jesse got Fareeha set up with a visor and the earmuffs, and they walked to the booth furthest from the entrance-

And then the front door opened, and a familiar voice sounded through the room. It was the Captain- figured. 

"Oh, shoot!" Fareeha whispered. She pulled Jesse down, under the counter of their booth. "I forgot mum was giving Amélie an extra lesson this week-" 

Jesse was actually too scared They hid, behind the counter, for a whole hour, until Ana and her protegee finished up. 

And when they left, Jesse saw that they had the range to themselves, as the rando had left at some point. 

"Well, alright then." he brushed himself off, and then he pulled his revolver out and twirled it around his finger. (It wasn't loaded, and he wasn't yet confident enough in his gun twirling abilities to twirl it if it was). "Little lady, you ready to learn how to shoot straight?" 

Fareeha smiled. She adjusted her visor and headphones on. "Alright! First straight thing I've done in my life." 

Jesse laughed. He made that joke all the time too. 


End file.
